Photostories
Fear. An emotion that rushes over one’s head, engulfing one like a wave on the rough Pacific coast. World War II wouldn’t even count as a wave. Its terrifying presence is better represented as a tsunami, taking the lives of the millions who stood in its path. During the war, millions of Jews all over Europe were victimized, Aleksandra Kapustyńka and her family being a part of that astounding number. As a Jewish toddler during the war, Ola was constantly relocated and was confused as to why she was always in hiding. After the war she took all of the anger bottled up within her and used that to drive her to discover her hidden past.
Ola was born in Warsaw, Poland in early 1937. Born to a Jewish mother and a Polish father when the Nazis invaded Poland in 1939, her family was pushed to move into the Ghetto. Her father came from a wealthy Polish background and had worked previously in the military. However his family was still relocated into the ghetto, as according to the Nazis, the Jewish faith is passed on by the mother. The family saw the possibility to escape from Warsaw, taking the enormous risk of having no false documents.
Ola escaped with her 11 year-old brother and her parents to a small village 100 kilometers away from Warsaw. It was a village, with dirt and gravel paths and the nearest asphalt street was 5 kilometers away. It was a one-way street leading to a train station...only a train station. Being a young girl, Ola had a tendency to think on the bright side. However she could see no bright side in leaving her beautiful apartment and all of her beautiful things which remained in Warsaw. To other city folk, the village would have seemed empty, and void of opportunity, but to the Kapustyńkas it made all the difference between life and death. They had connections to the village because they had a cousin who ran a flour mill in the area. The family, already impoverished because the father’s Jewish identity made him unable to find work, had no choice but to have the father work at the mill to feed his family where he worked until the Nazis invaded the village. When the Nazis invaded, they took everything they wanted, slaying men in their houses, and the men began to flee into the forests surrounding the village, leaving the women and children behind. Because Partisans lurked in the woods,the Nazis didn’t have the courage to beseech the forests, especially at night. During the day, however, the Nazis brought terror with them, feeding it to villagers with spoons. They took all the precious things, left the villagers to die and shut down all sources of income for villages; including closing the mill. Because the Nazis never inspected during the night, the factory opened illegally at dusk and closed at dawn. Luck was not something Ola’s father possessed, and not only was he having trouble evading being captured, he was having trouble dealing with the trickery in the factory, which didn’t make him many friends. Ola’s father didn’t let this get to him, and for his family, life was generally comfortable.
Wake up, play inside and then go to sleep. Ola’s life began to acquire a pattern, and on her brother’s 12th birthday, this pattern changed. Not only was her day full of festivities, but that evening something extraordinary happened. The knocking and banging was so loud Ola woke up from her deep sleep. She began to stumble towards the sound, but Ola’s mother pushed her back. A young man, perhaps in his twenties, was standing at the window, hitting it with all his might. “Musisz pójść ze mną do fabryki, to awaryjny!” [“You have to come with me to the factory, it's an emergency!”] The banging continued, and Ola began to cry. She was 3 and the clanging was too much for her gentle ears.Her father, also suddenly disappeared into the darkness with the strange man, heading towards the mill. When they were at the factory, the two men got into a fight, and the other man ended up pushing Ola’s father into the turbines of the mill, mangling his body. The next day the family received news of the death as word travelled like wild fire in the small town. According to the rumor, the killer supposedly ran into his home, screamed to his wife ,“I killed a man!” ,packed his bags, and left. Grief changes a person, taking the color out of one’s cheeks, and the twinkle out of one’s eyes. It’s like death is tempting a person then laughs and carries on. Ola spoke about this event with passion in her eyes, and as she told us her story, hot tears burned her face and her breathing got heavy, evidence that the grief never left her, but she has learned to move on.
Justice was something out of a dream for most people during the war. Not only were the Jews persecuted, but the Kaupustyńkas now had their hands tied in the case of the death of their father. They couldn’t sue because they didn’t have false documents, and the government would uncover their identities. Furthermore the trial would reveal that the mill worked illegally during the night, and the family did not want to risk making any more enemies. After losing her husband, Ola’s mother was in no place to take care of the two children and so young Ola was sent to a convent.
The father’s dismal funeral took place while Ola was at the convent. Only 5 people attended: her mother, her aunt and uncle (father’s side), her brother, and her father’s friend from the military. The fact that the father married into a Jewish family meant the Poles refused to help the widow and her two children. At the time, any Poles, or civilians in general, who helped Jews would be killed on the spot if they were found by the Gestapo. Despite this rule, the friend from the military offered to help the torn family.The man was a roaring alcoholic, who often invited Nazi officers to his house for dinner parties, and asked Ola’s mother to represent the house at dinners as his wife was too “plain” for his taste. Imagine the terror. Ola’s mother, a beautiful city woman, a beautiful Jew, standing before German officers who at any point could ask who she was, and the whole family would have been killed. The terror was overwhelming for Ola’s mother and she could only bear to live this nightmare for two months.
While they would have loved to stay in the small village, Ola’s family had nowhere to go after losing their home as the father was dead and made no money to pay rent, so they travelled back to Warsaw and prayed that they would have somewhere to go. To Ola, three at the time, travelling around was nonsense. She didn’t understand the war, and believed that she and her family should have simply moved back into their old apartment. But some things aren’t that easy. Jews in Europe at the time were for the most part wealthier than the nationals (for example Poles in Poland, Germans in Germany) and so immediately after the Jews moved out of their apartments, Poles would move in. Even in the countryside where most of the Jews were peasants and had nothing, they would be robbed. Thus, instead, the family found their safe haven in a parish, a Christian parish run by a Polish priest. Religion was always important to the Kaupstyńkas. They were proud of their Jewish faith, and so moving into a Christian parish was very difficult. The priest was a distant relative of Ola’s father. Ola’s mother began to work in this parish as a maid, and she could only bring one of her children with her, and she had Ola stay. Living in the parish was very secretive work and the Kapistunkas were about to find out why.
Ola’s maternal uncle owned false documents as he had what Ola described as “the good look”,and therefore was able to live outside the Ghetto. One day he took Ola on a walk, and at the time she didn’t know where. She saw burning buildings, and her uncle began to cry. These buildings were part of the Ghetto where her aunt and grandmother lived. They had burned alive. Ola, when telling this part of her tale, didn’t feel a special emotional connection to the story, because at three years old, she didn’t understand the catastrophe.
While Ola lived in the parish, she knew nothing of her heritage. Her brother and her mother had made a pact to never tell Ola anything. Ola’s mother once told him,“Don’t tell her nothing that could help her find out who she is.” Ola on the other hand, thought she lived a normal life which she didn’t. She went to kindergarten every day right next to the parish, had loads of friends, and had no idea that there was a government hunting her and her race down. Her pseudo-normal life continued until the Nazis snuck up on her yet again during an attack on Warsaw. The bomb warning alarms blared all throughout the city, the high pitched caution “WEEOOO WEEOOO WEEOOO” ringing through the city streets. Ola had gotten specific instructions from her teachers that during the attack she had to either wait for someone to pick her up, or get home some other way; the bottom line was, she had to evacuate the kindergarten. Because the parish was next to the kindergarten, Ola knew she would have no trouble getting home. All she had to do was go through the gate connecting the two properties. However after long minutes of waiting, besides Ola, one girl was left with no one to pick her up, and she had nowhere to go. Ola, being her heroic self, decided to step in to help, but instead of doing what would seem the most logical, and simply take the girl with her next door to the parish, Ola decided to walk this other girl home. Ola remembers vividly grabbing the other girl’s hand and telling her it would be okay. In this case Ola was not trying to be brave, rather she had no understanding of the situation and genuinely thought everything would be okay. Selfish. The civilians, all worried for their own sake were too selfish to find the love in their hearts and offer to help these two wandering girls. The only one who lent a hand was a Gestapo officer. The Gestapo asked Ola and her friend where they had come from and where they were going. After Ola explained to the best of her ability that she was only trying to help the girl get home, the Gestapo decided to accompany the two youngsters back to the parish. The priest and the other worshipers in the parish were terrified; a Gestapo officer was heading towards the parish, holding the hand of a Jewish girl.
As it turns out, the parish in which Ola and her mother stayed had connections to the underground army based in Warsaw. The parish served as a safe haven for the rebels before and after the great Warsaw Uprising, and so when the priest saw the Gestapo officer approaching, he must have thought someone had given up his location. As it was that no one had told on the priest and his plans, the Uprising went as planned, and as protection, the priest ordered Ola and her mother to leave, as he knew better than anyone that the city would no longer be safe for them.
Warsaw was not safe for Ola, and it wasn’t safe for her brother either.“Filthy Jew!” Ola’s aunt shrieked as she locked Ola’s brother in the small closet. No food, no water, no change of clothes. As he was unable to stay in the parish with the women in his family, Ola’s mother had made arrangements for him to live with his aunt, the father’s sister. A Pole. This woman was a Jew’s worst nightmare. Not only were Jews being persecuted by the public, but also their families? The aunt believed that Ola’s brother deserved to go days without food, and nights without blankets because all he was to her was a “filthy Jew”. People all have a breaking point, and Ola’s brother reached his after only a short period of time living with his aunt. He escaped somehow and hid somewhere, but he stuck to his pact with his mother who had said, “Don’t tell her nothing that could help her find out who she is” ,and never told Ola anything.
Ola and her small family returned to the village, which was under German occupation. On a misty afternoon, per usual the men ran into the forest when they received news of the Nazis coming, leaving the women behind. The women were rounded up and ordered to meet in the village square. Ola’s mother was prepared to take any risks needed to save Ola’s life, and she made the decision to stay behind. Instead of marching into the public square, Ola’s mother felt it best to stay at home, as she knew her differences would be visible. She knew it would be visible that she wasn’t one of them. She didn’t have the black headscarf, nor the heavy clogs. She didn't have the callus on her hands nor the tan on her face. Ola and her mother were city folk, and they didn’t want to stand out. Ola remembers not even hiding, but rather lingering around at home as though there was nothing from which to hide. “BANG BANG BANG.” The pounding on the door was shockingly similar to the banging on the window an eternity ago. The Nazi officers pushed their way in, and immediately spotted Ola and her Mother, but Ola’s mother carried on as if nothing had happened. The Nazis became restless, and began to scream uninterpreted words in German at Ola’s mother, and she replied in slow, calm Yiddish. Ola’s mother explained that she and Ola had just gotten back from vacation and that they knew nothing of a protocol stating that they must go to the square. The Nazis, believing the story didn’t shoot; rather they informed Ola’s mother of the protocol for future use, and took them to the square.
Make note that the Nazis were clever, and were not easily fooled. The Nazis had heard that the men ran into the forest, and to tempt them, shot over the heads of the women. Ola still being a small girl at the time was neither close to death physically nor mentally. As the Nazis shot over the heads of the women, the bullets flew a meter away from Ola though even a stray bullet wouldn’t have killed her as she was shielded by the other women. However, Ola’s only memory of the event was crouching on the ground crying, whimpering in fear. Ola now knows that in those moments it wasn’t death she feared, rather that her brother would have to live without a mother and a sister. She was a child after all, and even years of running and evading death can never really teach a child what being killed entails.
Ola’s mother always feared that the Nazis returning to the village would be the same as those who discovered her in the cottage the day she refused to go to the square. As a precaution, Ola’s mother decided that the next time the villagers got word that the Nazis were coming, she and Ola would flee to the neighboring town. Communication in the Second World War was not the most trustworthy. As it turned out, the Nazis didn’t go to Ola’s village, rather the village to where Ola’s family had fled to. When the family arrived, the Nazis were patrolling; Ola and her mother were standing by a farm, a wide flat expanse of land with nowhere to hide. Ola’s mother was about to break down in tears when the owner of the farm took notice of her. The farmer quickly shoved a farm tool in the hands of Ola's mother and told her to swing it up and down and side to side, as an effort to “blend in”. Ola’s mother ,however, was not a fine actress. The Nazis were able to quickly distinguish Ola’s mother from the rest of the crowd as an outsider, and they ordered to have her taken. Once again, this farmer came to the rescue and begged to have Ola’s mother stay, explaining that she was his cousin, staying on a holiday, and had offered to help in the fields. Once again, the Nazis bought into the story and let Ola’s mother go.
Back and forth went Ola and her family, from village to Warsaw and back to another village and repeat. Ola’s family had moved numerous times already but their journey wasn’t over yet. The family wished to return to the village where they had lived until Ola’s father’s death. However they received dreadful news upon their arrival. The sister of the man who murdered Ola’s father had been walking one day when she stumbled upon her younger brother, who was carrying a letter and was headed towards the post office at the train station. Something about the letter her brother was holding seemed odd. She grabbed the envelope from her brother, and deciphered the address. One word. Gestapo. She broke the envelope’s seal with one swift motion, pulled out a piece of cheap paper and read, “There is a Jew living in the village with two children.” Her brother, the killer of Ola’s father, was trying to disclose the location of Ola and her family. The sister intercepted the letter and refused to let her younger brother send it. When Ola and her family arrived in the village, she warned them immediately. Though she had intercepted one letter, other letters might have already been successfully sent and the Gestapo could have be on its way. And, thus, Ola’s family moved back to the village next over.
Ola quickly adapted to her new surroundings, as she always had. One morning Ola woke with a start; she had become accustomed to the new village, and knew something was out of the ordinary. The air smelled of thick black smoke, wood burning, and screams began to grow louder and louder. The instigators of the disruption of the peace were getting closer…whoever they were. Ola heard the clapping of the horseshoes on the gravel paths and she and her mother were certain that it was the end. Soldiers burst into their room after kicking down the door. They had an odd air about them, dark thick hair and tanned skin. Ola has no recollection from where the “far east soldiers”as she still calls them came. They gave Ola’s mother no time for explanations and the family was pushed out of its small shack and into a mass of people heading north, towards the train station. It was dead winter ,1944; no one was wearing cold weather attire on their fragile bodies so as they walked, winter’s cold hands grabbed at them. A few died on the 5 kilometer walk. If the soldiers didn’t kill the villagers, the cold would.
In the mass of people, Ola could make out one other Jew. She was of wealthy descent and had lived in a divine villa before the war broke out. She, like Ola had resisted capture by going into hiding, though instead of moving around, she simply took refuge in her own basement. Ola described her as “very beautiful.”The Nazis had never found her there, but the “Far east soldiers”,while searching her villa for fine things presumably, found the lady there, and propelled her into the mass of people walking towards their deaths.
Ola’s mother was one of the only two people who knew what was going on. She and the beautiful Jew had heard of the camps. As they walked into the train station, the Jew began to speak in a playful tone with the officers, cracking jokes and laughing. As Ola found out afterwards, the Jew had convinced the soldiers to let her go back home. She told them that she was of nobility and that Ola’s mother worked as her maid. The soldiers bought into the story and let the Jew go, with Ola and her mother by her side. When they were walking back to the house, the officers escorted them and one had Ola ride on the horse with him. Ola’s mother was terrified for Ola, but nothing happened.They stayed with the beautiful Jew until the end of the war.
Late 1945, just after the end of the war, Ola and her brother sat, listening to the radio. They had been listening to a broadcast of names, names of people looking for their families. All was quite monotone until they heard it, the name of the man who killed their father. The dreadful killer, who had murdered Ola’s father in cold blood, hearing his name made her brother, who was 15 at the time, determined to find vengeance. The murderer’s sister came to see the family and persuade them to demand a trial against her brother, but Ola’s mother refused to be the one to sue. She knew the hardships of living without a husband and her children living without a father, and she didn't want to push that pain onto anyone else. However, the sister still sued and asked the mother to be one of the witnesses. Because the man who killed Ola’s father had attempted to work with the Gestapo by sending the letter, the trial resulted in 3 years in prison. To the disdain of Ola’s family, he was not held liable for the death of Ola’s father.
After the war, Ola’s mother received a pile of photographs covered in blood, which were found in their grandmother’s apartment before the war. Ola was curious about the photos but her mother told her that she had always possessed the photos even though Ola knew it wasn't true. Because the grandmother had leg problems which restricted her movement, Ola believes that the blood on the photo is that of her grandma and that the old woman didn't die in ghetto but, because of restricted mobility, was shot in her own bed.
As Ola became older, she decided to study physics at the University of Warsaw. She found out that her uncle also worked as a physicist, and when she asked her mother, her mother refused to tell Ola her uncle’s name because it was Jewish. Ola continued her studies, and afterwards she became a professor at the university. After she retired, she dedicated her life to finding out what happened to her family during the war. Astonished, Ola found out that she had a Jewish heritage and soon accepted it with grace. Her mother died in early 1990 with the last words “Don’t tell anybody”, still afraid that if the Holocaust repeated itself, Ola wouldn't be safe. When Ola’s brother died 10 months later, she had no one else to go to who could help her uncover her story. Ola took all the emotions from the war that she had bottled up for so long and used them to drive her to discover her true identity. After dedicating her life to finding out what happened to her during the war, only two months ago in early 2014, did all the puzzle pieces fall into place. Ola is now a strong, beautiful senior who has learned from the mistakes of others in the past and lives each day to the fullest. She has used what she dug up from the past to build a brighter future.